A Journey Through Time
by ForMyself
Summary: Nightwing is sent back in time after suffering a serious blow to the head and is faced with the ultimate test: should he save the Waynes or allow Batman to be born? While Nightwing deals with this new reality, the League and Batman race against time to retrieve their missing bird before his body breaks down and he is lost forever. Rated T for minor swearing. One F-bomb.
1. Chapter 1

**This story is completed, however, as I am a comment whore ;) the rest will be uploaded after I know that someone at least likes it lol Also, I apologize for not being able to indent my paragraphs. Please enjoy!**

* * *

"Nightwing, may I remind you that if there were any significant brain damage, it would not take only, 'a tick', as you suggest for me to discover it," Martian Man-Hunter stated, exasperated that his mental abilities were so readily available to be taken advantage by the humans once again. He didn't really mind. He had known the boy since he was nine and Nightwing had taken a serious blow to the head earlier during patrol in Blüdhaven.

The young hero sighed, "I know, I just don't want to go to the meeting with this blinding headache. Going through the meta-tube was rough enough. I don't think I could handle an hour and a half of Batman reprimanding the Justice League for letting Darkseid escape." The time-warping, trans-dimensional alien demon, Darkseid had been securely imprisoned since the League's run in with him in Metropolis where he attempted for the third time to steal Super Girl. Unfortunately, when Batman labels something 'secure', a certain Lex Luthor makes it his primary objective to redefine security.

J'onn grimaced, "I understand the hesitation. Batman may only be human, but his ability to make words sting is by far supernatural." Nightwing merely chuckled. "Now, relax. To enter into your mind in order to search for damage, you must be fully submitted to my own. I will not enter any secured doors you create, but if one appears weakened, it may be the cause of the headache. It is also highly possible you have sustained a concussion so I need to connect deeper into your mind than usual to maintain your active consciousness. Ready?"

Nightwing took a breath, "sure." His breath hitched and his head was forced back in reaction to the sudden pulse of energy inserting itself into his mind. The world went blank and the absence of sensation, for however many milliseconds it was, was enough to send fear and anxiety through his body. Suddenly, Nightwing was standing in full uniform in a small room full of wiring and blinking blue and red lights. The green Martian appeared shortly after.

"Welcome to the core of your brain," J'onn said with a wave of his arm. Nightwing instantly picked up on the flashing red lights. "Yes, it appears there has been significant damage to this area of your nervous system. Tell me, did you notice lack of feeling in your left arm or perhaps your entire left side?"

"I thought I was just tired," Nightwing admitted pathetically.

"Indeed, you are. I am glad you suggested I take a look, as while it stands, there may only be a minimal lack of feeling, but left unattended, you could have lost the ability to operate the entire left half of your body." Nightwing's mouth dropped.

"Damn."

J'onn smirked and began removing wires here and there and plugging them into empty sockets. Nightwing collapsed as a shock wave of motion sickness overcame him.

"What the Hell did you just do?" The young hero asked as he thought up a bucket and proceeded to vomit.

"I apologize, I forgot that such a process has a nauseating affect. I cannot fix such damage on the surface. As I said, I will need to connect myself deeper. However, the process is not complicated and will take a few hours at most."

"A few hours? Can't we wait?" As much as Nightwing did not want to hear Batman's rant, he knew he'd get much worse if he didn't show up to the meeting.

"I am restoring your motor skills and cognitive function while I am within. The advantage of this process is that it will allow you to function in the real world while I repair the damage. However, you will feel somewhat of a pinch upon insertion. I like to compare it to a flash drive being stuck into a computer. You can run other programs at the same time."

Nightwing's stomach settled and he almost laughed at the Martian using a computer metaphor. "What's a disadvantage?"

J'onn glanced back at Nightwing with a cocked brow, "It is remarkable that you also look for the negative of situations." Nightwing ignored the obvious comparison to his former mentor. "However, you are correct in assuming there is a disadvantage. Like, a flash drive, I must be safely removed or software on both ends may become… corrupted."

Nightwing grimaced but he Martian continued, "Should we proceed?" The hero nodded and was hurtled through a blinding white light and into the present. His body inhaled sharply, shocked by the sudden information being received by his senses. Nightwing looked around to find himself back in Martian Man-Hunter's room aboard the Watchtower. J'onn smiled and helped Nightwing to his feet as he had apparently slipped from his chair during the rewiring. "So," he began rubbing his head, "you're still in here?"

Martian Man-Hunter nodded, "Indeed. This way we both may withstand the verbal abuse shortly to come."

"I don't understand, how can you be fixing anything and still be functioning out here?" Nightwing asked waving around his arms. The two left the quarters and began their way to the meeting room.

"As I hope it is obvious to you, I have an extremely large mental capacity. On a regular day, I do not occupy the entirety of my mind. Your mind is small enough that I can focus on two subjects at once. I quite enjoy the opportunity to work to my fullest extent."

"Oh," Nightwing nodded, soaking in all the information. "Hey, wait a minute-" He turned on the Martian but found himself standing in front of an open door with J'onn smirking. The Martian held out his arm to indicate Nightwing should enter the room with the rest of the Justice League.

Inside sat the original six, with J'onn making it seven, as well as several newer members of the League, including various 'sidekicks' who had been involved in taking Darkseiddown the first time. It had truly required a combined effort to subdue the monster. A few turned to the two with lowered brows. Nightwing groaned internally as he looked up and saw he was the sole recipient of the infamous Bat-glare.

"You're late," Batman growled.

"The fault is entirely my own," J'onn mercifully intervened. "Please continue."

Batman seemed to take a second to think over which was more important, the meeting or reprimanding his now twenty-four year old former ward. The meeting won out as he began a long and tedious lecture on the importance of regular maintenance checkups. Just as Nightwing was about to fall asleep, he noticed an irritating buzzing noise coming from behind his right ear. He couldn't remember when it started or how long it had been going on, but now that he noticed it, he couldn't focus on anything else. Not that there was much he wanted to focus on right at that moment. J'onn grunted and Nightwing looked up at the Martian only to hear his voice within his head.

"I apologize for the nuisance. It is a side-effect of this process." Nightwing's brow furrowed and J'onn spoke again, "I can hear your conscious thoughts without censor; I again apologize for this side-effect." He smirked, "And yes, I do see the resemblance between Mr. Burns and Bruce Wayne."

Nightwing stifled a yawn and just as he was imagining some calamity that would break up this meeting clearly designed to bore the League to death, the Watchtower shuddered violently. The terrifying sound of metal scrapping and bending against metal echoed through the room and down the halls as the League jumped to their feet and rushed to the main hall in the center of the satellite.

"Batman!" Nightwing yelled over the increasingly loud noise coming from a purple and red orb of light in the center of the hall. The light pulsed and gave off a roar of sound and energy which whipped at the uniforms of the League and shattered any nearby glass. Batman glanced back at Nightwing but clearly wasn't interested in explaining anything as he switched his cowl to detective mode. The light was giving off an insane amount of heat and light and suddenly Batman knew what it was and he growled.

"Superman!" Batman ordered at the Boy in Blue standing beside him and instantly Clark knew what was happening. The light orb opened into a purple and red portal allowing one large and angry Darkseid to stroll into the Watchtower without hesitation. Superman clenched his fists and flew faster than a speeding bullet right at Darksied's rock abdomen. The black beast laughed as he batted away the Kryptonian like a fly.

"He works just as well with a team as you do," Wonder Woman scoffed at Batman. The Dark Knight was annoyed that any thought could be spared towards cheap shots at a time like this, but he did not respond. Rather he turned to the others assembled and began giving out orders of attack.

Before Nightwing would get in on the action, J'onn pulled him back. "You cannot risk further injury to your nervous system!"

"You want me to just sit here!?" Nightwing asked, baffled.

J'onn did not waste the time to give an answer, he only gave a curt nod and rushed into the fray. Nightwing stood motionless and desperate to help. He looked around, trying to find some way to get involved without putting himself in direct danger. His efforts were cut short however, as he heard Batman yell with strained effort.

"NIGHTWING!" Darkseid had The Bat in a death grip and Superman under foot. Wonder Woman was focusing all her efforts on freeing the nearly immortal Kryptonian while the others were failing to rescue Batman who appeared to be running short on time. Nightwing forgot immediately about his condition and J'onn's warning and dove into the fight to free his former mentor. He released a flurry of shirkens directed at Darksied's eyes. The trans-dimensional war lord grunted as his vision was momentarily obscured which gave Nightwing just enough time to stab his escrima sticks right into the beasts' ears, shocking Darkseid enough to loosen his grip on Batman. Superman took this moment to break free from under Darksied's foot and pull Batman away from his reach.

Though Nightwing was trained better than to fail to think a step ahead, he froze as the buzzing in his head increased and soon found himself in the exact position he had just freed Batman from. The air was squished from his lungs and his arms were crushed to his waist. His escrima sticks fell uselessly to the floor. Darkseid now kept Wonder Woman and Martian Man-Hunter at bay with his Gamma vision as Superman pelted the beast with his own heat vision. Superman's beam, with a stroke of luck, hit Darksied's eyes moments before he released another wave of Gamma radiation. Darkseid was thrown back, bringing Nightwing with him as he crashed to the floor of the Watchtower, bending the metal floor beneath him. Nightwing felt too much blood rush to his head and panicked as his vision became blurred. He felt Darkseid scramble to rise and felt an extreme rush of heat followed by a roar so loud, his brain rejected all sound completely. The noise stopped and before Nightwing's senses went blank he heard a muffled voice as though it was coming from under water, "NO!" Then all was black.

* * *

The first sensation that came back was smell. He was somewhere wet and made of asphalt that smelled vaguely of a night on patrol. His brain found his eye lids and slowly Nightwing opened his bright blue eyes. The familiar mesh lenses affirmed that he was still in uniform. He couldn't feel the rest of his body, so Nightwing settled on looking up at the dark and raining sky. Nightwing hazily noted that it had been just passed noon when he entered the Watchtower, but that seemed unimportant now as he felt a tingling in his fingers. He bent his forefinger, then his middle finger and slowly closed his fist, checking for breaks as he had been trained to do so many times before. Next, were his toes and shortly after, Nightwing found he could sit himself up, but he dared not stand as his stomach protested violently at the sudden movement. Nightwing hurled and felt his head spin but he refused to faint again.

_ Okay, I'm in an alley._ Nightwing looked around and found a dumpster and a few trash cans. A street light nearby allowed him to see he was completely alone. Apart from the sound of the rain on the dumpster, all was perfectly silent. Nightwing took a deep breath and forced himself to stand. He stumbled but regained his balance quick enough. He checked his equipment and found he still had his utility belt, but his escrima sticks were missing from their holsters. _Damn._ He moved out to the street which, though lined with cars, was completely abandoned. _Probably because of the rain._ He pulled out his grapple and lifted himself slowly to the roof top. _Gotham? _

Nightwing scanned the skyline and concluded he was in Gotham city. However, it wasn't the Gotham that he was used to. _I know I've been gone a while but it couldn't have changed this much._ While the Wayne Enterprises 'W' still illuminated the city below, several skyscrapers were missing, as well as several other monuments such as the orphanage Bruce had opened soon after he had taken in Dick. Nightwing caught sight of the Wayne Hospital and quickly came to the conclusion that he was in a different version of Gotham as several wards were missing and there only stood one central building made of brick. His brow furrowed. He shouldn't have been able to see the hospital from here as he realized even more buildings were missing from the skyline. _What the Hell? _

He lifted his arm to his mouth as he tried to open communications with Batman or Robin. "Batman, Batman its Nightwing. Batman, come in! Robin!" His communicator buzzed with static and after several more failed attempts to reach anyone, Nightwing turned off the communicator and began to travel across the rooftops. It was significantly more difficult to traverse the city of Gotham without the towering skyscrapers to grapple to but travel would've been slow regardless as Nightwing took several stops to ease his dizziness. He found an area heavily populated compared to the empty street he had come from and moved closer to get a better look.

_ The red-light district,_ Nightwing recognized the fancy cars and not quite so fancy women under the dim street lights, ignoring the rain to make a living. _Batman shut this place down years ago_. He remembered the horror stories Selena had told Bruce and shuddered thinking about the children selling themselves on behalf of their pimps down there. Nightwing stiffened as a car screeched down the street, guns blazing behind them as a single police car recklessly followed, nearly maiming several of the working girls in the process. Nightwing growled at the police and their apathy towards the women. Ignoring his throbbing headache, he rushed after the cars and gracefully dove down on top of the fugitive's vehicle. He grabbed ahold of the roof for support and pulled out his grapple, firing it at the left tire of the police car, popping the tire immediately. The police car spun out of control but came to a stop without harming the occupants within. _Now for the criminals_. Nightwing leaned over the windshield and waved as the driver and his partner yelled in surprise. Nightwing prepared himself for the swerving that always came after he announced himself and smirked. Bad guys were so predictable. He swung himself over the side of the car as the roof was riddled with bullets. _So predictable. _One quick gloved strike made short work of the driver's side window. He proceeded to reach in and unload the semi-automatic weapon and then grabbed onto the roof of the car and removed the driver by wrapping his legs around his torso and pulling him out through the window. Nightwing knew the man would survive the fall, but he looked back to make sure. Satisfied that he hadn't killed the criminal, he inserted himself into the driver's seat, quickly subduing the others with his grapple, and drive the car to a safe stop.

"You kids have fun now!" Nightwing saluted playfully but before he left one of the criminals called after him.

"Who the Hell are you!?" They seemed genuinely frightened but confused and Nightwing started, surprised.

"What?" He looked down just to affirm he was in fact in uniform. "I'm Nightwing! How could you live in Gotham and _not_ know who I am?" The men just stared back, bewildered. "You're serious?" Nightwing asked, a little hurt. He didn't have time to hear what they had to say, however, as the streets filled with the sounds of sirens. The first car to appear screeched to a halt as the working women who had gathered around the spectacle scurried away.

"Put your hands in the air! Don't move!" The police bellowed threateningly. Nightwing's mouth dropped as he lifted his hands slowly. Despite his ready surrender, the second car to arrive on the scene began unloading at the young hero. _Fuck this!_

Nightwing flipped out of the line of bullets and released several gas bombs, making his escape all too easy. Once safely on the roof tops, he studied the cops below as they searched around in total confusion and anger. _I'm in a nightmare._

The rain had stopped near the break of dawn and by that time Nightwing had found an abandoned apartment of the West side of town to get some rest. Sleep came easily but refused to stay for too long as a buzzing from the right ear woke him up every couple of hours. Just before the Sun came up, Nightwing decided to find something to eat to quell his groaning stomach. What he wouldn't give for Alfred right now.


	2. Chapter 2

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING, CLARK?" Batman frothed at the mouth as he thundered at Superman. The Boy in Blue looked stunned and ashamed and flinched at Batman's onslaught. "YOU DIDN'T THINK THIS WOULD HAPPEN AGAIN?"

Wonder Woman fought the urge to intervene. The Dark Knight's first protégé was missing and if there was ever NOT a good time to attempt to quell his rage, it was when one of the Bat Boys was in danger.

Superman swallowed hard, preparing himself for the fistful of Kryptonite he knew was just waiting in that bright yellow utility belt and sighed internally when the hit never came. Batman turned away sharply, obviously trying to prevent himself from chocking out the alien. Hawk Girl, careful not to step on any of the fallen debris and glass, made her way closer to Diana and the men.

"Perhaps Nightwing is simply somewhere else in this time. Darkseid doesn't only travel through time." Hawk Girl immediately wished she hadn't spoken as the wrath of The Bat was now fully focused on her.

"No, he doesn't does he!? So Nightwing could LITERALLY be at any PLACE in any TIME imaginable!" He had moved steadily closer to her so that they were mere centimeters apart. Hawk Girl swallowed hard as The Bat glowered down on her but she was granted mercy as he quickly turned back to Superman, "And this is all because Mr. I-Have-Every-Super-Power couldn't keep his DAMNED HEAT VISION AWAY FROM DARKSIED'S TRANSDIMENSIONAL WARP FIELD!"

Cyborg looked around at the wreck that was once the main hall of the Watchtower and groaned. All that work was going to be his, he just knew it. His attention was drawn away from the wreckage, however, as he heard a moaning from under a slab of metal. He rushed to the noise and heaved the metal without difficulty from on top of J'onn. The Martian moaned and passed out in Cyborg's metal arms.

"Uh, guys!" He called to the four super heroes bickering in the middle of the room. Batman whipped around, ready to strike when his composure changed entirely upon seeing J'onn unconscious in Cyborg's arms.

"His vitals all appear normal-"

"Except his heart rate," Superman chimed in, interrupting the Amazon.

"Right, and there is not physical damage that I can see."

Batman frowned deeper. _What a shitty day_.

J'onn struggled to open his eyes but when he did, he was greeted with the familiar faces of Batman, Wonder Woman and Superman all examining the medical equipment surrounding the bed he found himself on.

"I am fine," J'onn said quietly, making the other three snap around with relieved expressions. "I was simply stunned by the – the," he rubbed his temples as he made to sit up. "The change in space and time…" He focused on what he just said and realizing the ramifications of his statement, his eyes widened and his heart rate accelerated with worry and fear. He starred at Batman, panicked, "Where is Nightwing?" Batman did not answer but glared at Superman with a murderous look of disdain. J'onn understood what this meant. In a battle before with Darksied, Superman had used his heat vision against the war-lord while he was attempting to escape through his trans-dimensional warp field. The resulting explosion of energy had thrown several members of the Justice League to an alternate reality with a minimal chance of return. Thankfully they had in fact returned, but by the skin of their teeth.

"This cannot be good." J'onn murmured to himself. He felt his hopes rise however as he came to the realization that, "He isn't in an alternate reality."

The other three stared, confused at the Martian, obviously waiting for him to explain further. "Before the meeting, Nightwing came to me and asked me to scan him for brain damage-"

"Brain damage?" Wonder Woman asked, concerned.

J'onn nodded, "He had a particularly painful run in with Blockbuster this morning and felt unwell." He waited, but that seemed like enough explanation for the others so he continued, "I did find several parts of his nervous system were damaged and in need of my care. It was not so alarming that it required immediate and full attention so I simply rooted myself within his mind and we came to the meeting so that I could repair him subconsciously."

"You didn't think _any_ amount of brain damage would require a full and thorough repair _immediately_?" Batman asked, obviously restraining his anger.

J'onn did not expect the humans to understand. "It was minimal enough for me to repair in this way and he did not seem to mind…"

"Of course he didn't-!"

"How do you know now that he isn't in a parallel reality?" Wonder Woman cut Batman off before J'onn was given brain damage himself.

"We are still connected." J'onn stated simply. "Had he been sent to a place beyond my range, I would've felt the tear in the connection. He must be relatively close to us in space and time." Batman stayed silent, "I assure you that had I anticipated this interruption in the process, I would not have attempted it. The repairs should have been completed within a matter of hours." Batman remained silent, unwilling to respond.

"Is there any way that you can find where he is?" Superman asked, always the optimist.

"No. I can only hear his conscious thoughts. Though, right now, I cannot hear anything beyond a murmur." J'onn frowned.

"Perhaps he is just within your range?" Wonder Woman suggested.

"Perhaps."

* * *

A stolen hot dog from a twelve year old kid who had to get up to pee wasn't exactly the first meal of the day that Nightwing had anticipated on having. _When I get home, I am definitely designating a compartment in the belt for cash._ His stomach growled at the unsubstantial amount of food quickly being digested as he crouched on a gargoyle looking around this distorted Gotham he had found himself in. He starred at a hill behind which he knew there was a manor stocked full of the most delicious food found anywhere in the city. _Maybe stopping by wouldn't be that bad of an idea._ He had no idea where he was, other than a different version of Gotham, and he was beginning to suspect he didn't know exactly _when_ he was either. Regardless, if there was a Batcave under the manor, reaching it it was his only way of at least starting to think of a plan. In broad daylight, Nightwing decided that his uniform would draw far too much unwanted attention, so he elongated his travel time by travelling along the outside of the city in the lesser populated areas. Stepping across a building above an alley on the outskirts of the city, Nightwing suddenly stopped as he heard a rustling coming from below. He knew he wasn't exactly wanted here, but dark alley-ways rustling wasn't something the hero could ignore. He crouched over the edge of the building to get a better view of the alley and found his stomach tighten in anger.

"Come on, rich boy, we all know daddy has you loaded!" A young man, around Nightwing's age, was backed up by four other men, all wearing tattered rags and carrying baseball bats or some other makeshift weaponry. It was hard to tell who they were talking to as the rustling he had heard early seemed to have been them throwing someone onto a pile of trash. The trash began to move as a small boy emerged, shaking and obviously frightened for his life. Nightwing had seen enough. Kids always got under the hero's skin.

The acrobat flipped over the ledge and landed behind the assailants with only a ninja's grace. He reached for his escrima sticks but frowned when he remembered he didn't have them. _Taunting is always fun._

"Excuse me!" The five men turned around, obviously startled at having been snuck up on. "Can I join the party?"

"Where the Hell did this clown come from? The circus?" The ring leader said, laughing. The others chimed in, finding Nightwing's costume comical.

Nightwing grinned, "Clowns don't sell nearly as many tickets as I did!" With that, Nightwing ended the conversation with a swift fist to the ring-leader's face. The hoodlum fell to the ground and his comrades followed suit after flailing their bats around aimlessly. _Too damn easy, _Nightwing thought as he brushed off blood off from his shoulder. _I guess I didn't need to break his nose…_

Rather than wait for the neighbors to call the police and relive last night's fiasco, Nightwing walked up to the boy and crouched to his height. Smiling, Nightwing offered his gloved hand, but the boy, shaking with fear, flinched away. "It's alright," Nightwing said with his best child-friendly voice. Despite his upbringing, he was a master with children. "Have you ever been on an apartment rooftop before?" Nightwing asked sarcastically and hearing the sirens, he wrapped his arm around the boy and grappled them both to the rooftop. The boy shut his eyes tight and whimpered. Nightwing smiled as he set his down gently. After the boy was sure he was safe he eyed Nightwing curiously, then studied his belt, watching Nightwing put away the grapple.

"May I?" The boy obviously had gotten over his fear of the masked vigilante enough to want to inspect his technology. Nightwing glanced at his grapple and shrugged.

"Sure," he tossed the tool to the boy who caught it with delight and began inspecting its mechanics. "Just, be careful, alright?" The boy gave the hero such a look of bored smugness, Nightwing could only chuckle in response.

Nightwing examined the boy's clothing as he sat, his back against a powered-off vent. "You don't exactly look like you're from around these parts." He stated, acknowledging the fine cut cloth and pristinely ironed pant. The outfit would be perfect for an opera, were it not for the garbage stains.

The boy again glanced at Nightwing, "No shit, Sherlock. Where did you come up with that brilliant deduction?" Nightwing's jaw dropped and had he not been trained by the World's Greatest Detective, he would be laughing at the boy's obvious confidence.

"How old are you? That's no language for a young man!" Nightwing mock-reprimanded but the boy's eyes grew wide with worry.

"Oh, please don't tell Daddy! Please!"

Nightwing laughed and waved the kid off, "I'm not telling anyone." Just then the police arrived below, but instead of arresting the criminals, they brushed off the work and continued on their way as though the paper work of booking the men was just too much for them to consider. Nightwing frowned, disappointed. He glanced at the boy who was also frowning.

"Daddy says the police here don't work like they're supposed to," he tossed the grapple back, no longer interested in the new toy. "But you…" he looked Nightwing up and down, "You kicked their butts and saved my life!" He grinned. "Could you teach me? I want to kick bad-guy butt too!" The boy began punching the air and kicking, obviously restrained by his expensive clothes.

Nightwing watched, amused. "Uh, don't you think you're a little too young to 'kick bad-guy butt'?"

The boy stopped punching, crest-fallen, "Well, how old were you when you started, then?"

Nightwing smirked, "That's not the point, now is it? The point is, what were you doing out here all alone on this side of the tracks?" Nightwing asked, changing the subject.

The boy sighed deeply and plopped himself down Indian-style beside the young hero. "Well, I _was _on my way to the circus…"

Nightwing's brow rose. "Oh, yeah?"

The boy nodded, "Yeah, I love the circus! But Daddy has meetings all day today and Mommy is sick. It's the last day that it's in town but Alfred-"

Nightwing coughed violently as his breath hitched. His heart raced and his eyes widened in disbelief as he regarded the boy before him with a new found perspective.

"Are you okay?" The boy asked, concerned. Now Nightwing definitely felt like a failed detective.

"Please tell me you're not Bruce Wayne, but in fact some distant cousin visiting for the week…" Nightwing asked pointedly.

The boy's face contorted in confusion, "What are you talking about? I don't have any cousins. You didn't know I was Bruce Wayne?"

_Well now I definitely know _when_!_ "It didn't hit me, no," Nightwing said, running his hand through his disheveled hair.

Bruce laughed a bright, child-like laugh, "Wow! You aren't a detective, are you?"

Nightwing grinned, laughing at the situation. "Well, whose fault is that!?" He asked Bruce, but he knew he wouldn't understand. Nightwing loved Bruce's laugh. It was intoxicating and exactly what a child should sound like. His smile faltered however as he thought, "How old are you, Bruce?"

"I'm seven! Just had my birthday a week ago," Bruce smiled warmly and Nightwing's heart, once raised so high, sunk lower than any pit on Earth.

Nightwing tried to maintain his smile, though he found it difficult, "How would you like it if we went to the circus now?"

Bruce's face lit up like a Christmas tree. He sprang to his feet, "Really!? You'll take me!? Oh, yes please!" His face fell quickly though, "You're going to need something better to wear though." Nightwing smirked, looking himself up and down.

"I think you're right about that." His stomach growled angrily, "and maybe some food too? I'm starving." Bruce rolled his eyes, but nodded.


	3. Chapter 3

Batman rolled his eyes beneath his cowl as Green Lantern failed, yet again, to follow basic instruction concerning the placement of several large sheets of metal. _Give them super powers and they still can't tell their lefts from their rights_. If only J'onn could help. However, the flying Martian was in a deep state of meditation, attempting to focus on strengthening the connection he had with Nightwing. Batman sighed internally. _Come on, Dick._ As if overseeing the reconstruction of the Watchtower wasn't stressful enough, the Dark Knight couldn't help but stress over the wellbeing of his good soldier. When he got back to the cave, Batman was definitely going to develop some sort of tracker that could be traced through space as well as time and inject it into Jason, Tim and Damien in their sleep. Just like how he injected all the other tracers in them. "No, Raven, that doesn't go there!" Batman yelled as the demon-spawn made a mess of the ceiling. He groaned.

"Bruce!" Wonder Woman called as she rushed towards him. He frowned at the use of his civilian name, but he always did like when she used it.

"I'm busy," he threw out his typical, 'leave me alone I'm having a bad day' response.

She huffed audibly, annoyed. "It's J'onn. He's talking in his trance."

Though Batman was skeptical, he wasted no time in throwing down his clipboard and rushing to the Martian's quarters.

"What did he say?" asked Batman as he glided into the room. The Flash was there, arms crossed and frowning. J'onn was not making a sound, still shut off from the rest of the world in search of Dick. "Wally?"

"He didn't say much- he just kept repeating, 'I'm seven!'" Barry shrugged. "But Dick's like, twenty-four. Do you think he went back to when- ?" Batman froze, his heart racing and he thanked God Superman wasn't here to point out how excited and stressed he had just become. He knew where Dick was and he never thought this would happen so soon. "What is it?" Wally asked, noting the Dark Knight's demeanor and failure to respond.

"He's not seven, but someone else is."

"Bruce?" Wonder Woman asked.

"Get me Zatara, now!" Batman demanded. With that, the Caped Crusader rushed from the room.

The Flash frowned at Wonder Woman, "And we all wondered why Dick quit being Robin?"

* * *

"I don't know if I'm so sure about this outfit, Bruce…" Dick said, coming out of the changing room. Bruce had dressed him in light blue denim jeans, a red polo, covered with a light blue denim jacket and then added sunglasses. For good measure, said Bruce. Also, 'for good measure', Dick was wearing fingerless leather gloves and a backwards baseball cap. "I mean, I like the high tops, but the rest…"

"What are you talking about?" Bruce asked condescendingly. "You look great!"

Dick looked at the excited kid, "You've never dressed yourself have you?" Bruce's face fell so hard, Dick felt bad for the boy and before he could respond he said, "Alright fine, but I'm not wearing the gloves and the hat goes forward. Deal?"

Bruce stuck out his bottom lip but wasn't any less cheery, "Deal." Bruce handed the checkout lady his platinum credit card which Dick found hysterical as the kid was barely tall enough to see over the counter. "But you owe me… $37.79." He said as the woman read out the cost.

"Oh trust me," Dick sighed. "I owe you a lot more than that." Dick bid the woman a good day as they walked out of the store and turned back to Bruce, "So where are you taking me for lunch?"

Bruce grunted, "You're going to take all my money aren't you?"

Dick scoffed, "Do you _know_ how rich you are?"

Bruce smirked. Then he watched as Dick removed the sunglasses and tucked them into the color of his polo. "Why were you wearing the mask?"

Dick looked down at the kid, following him down the road, "To keep my identity a secret from the bad guys."

"So, its okay that you told me your name was John and that I know your eyes are blue 'cause I'm not a bad guy?" The kid looked up and frowned again.

"What?"

"Well, how do you know I'm not a bad guy? Is it 'cause I'm rich? Daddy says not everyone with money is a nice person." Bruce skipped a little when talking about his father. Dick swallowed.

"I know I can trust you, is all… Your father is a smart man," Dick said, eyeing the McDonalds across the street.

Bruce noticed his gaze and led him to the fast food joint saying, "He sure is. I'm going to be just like him when I grow up, too!"

Dick looked down, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, I'm going to be a doctor and help people and have a big family! I don't think one kid is enough though…"

Dick took in a deep breath, "Does it get pretty lonely in that manor all by yourself?"

Bruce frowned and looked at his feet. "Sometimes. But Alfred is always there… so I guess it isn't too bad."

* * *

"CIRCUS!" Bruce yelled, very much excited as Dick got the tickets with the billionaire's credit card.

"Don't scare the animals!" Dick teased. Dick looked around astonished. Haley's Circus twenty some years younger than the last time he'd see it. There were definitely more animals now and the clowns didn't scare the parents as much as the kids without their negative stereo-type established in Gotham. As they made their way through the crowd, Dick found the row of seats assigned to his tickets and laughed at how perfectly positioned they were. He looked at the excited Bruce. _As if that were a coincidence._ They sat down, well, Dick sat down and Bruce jumped all over the place, unable to contain himself. Dick covered his mouth to hide his chuckles. _It's so easy to forget who this boy turns out to be_.

Bruce finally calmed down enough to sit and thumb through the program, his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth. Skimming through the words, Bruce found a section particularly fascinating.

"Oh! Oh!" Bruce bounced in his chair, pointing out one part of the program to Dick.

"What? What?" Dick said, also bouncing. Bruce rolled his eyes at his being mocked but retained his excitement.

"Guess what my favorite part of the circus is! You know, after the tigers."

"You like tigers?" Dick asked, intrigued.

"Uh, duh! There's no better animal!" Bruce tucked his legs under his butt to give him more height and stuck his fingers in front of his face and growled, "They have big fangs and are sneaky and just awesome!" He stopped his tiger impression, "But that's not my favorite part."

"Alright," Dick smiled. "What's your _favorite_ part?"

Bruce grinned and shoved the program in Dick's face, "The acrobatics!"

"No way!" Dick said, though he half expected the very same answer, it still made him smile warmly. "That's _my _favorite part too!"

"Before I wanted to be a doctor, I wanted to be an aerialist, but…" Bruce trailed off, his face falling.

"But what?" Dick prodded.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Bruce looked very disappointed in himself. Dick felt his heart melt at the sight of the boy's big brown eyes and nodded earnestly, "I'm afraid of heights."

_Afraid of bats as a kid, I know. Afraid of heights? What?_ Dick was genuinely shocked but thought back to when he lifted him up the apartment building and thought about how terrified Bruce had been. Then again, Dick had always been afraid of the dark as a kid and that didn't stop him from joining the Dark Knight.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"

Dick's heart dropped as his attention was brought to the tall, muscular young man with a full head of hair in the center of the circus tent. _Damn_. He almost laughed at how different Haley looked in his early twenties. Bruce hit Dick's arm excitedly and Dick just sat in pure astonishment at the situation he found himself in. _This is ridiculous._

Dick was more interested in watching Bruce's reactions to the show before them. As he watched Bruce's eyes widen in awe and his face contort in sheer fascination, Dick was struck with a controversial thought. _I can save him._ He watched the tigers jump through flaming rings and nearly felt his heart break at Bruce's cheers of joy. _I can stop it from ever happening. I can save Bruce Wayne from becoming Batman._ What else was he going to do? Live the rest of his life watching Bruce drive himself to the edge of sanity chasing criminals, losing those he holds most dear, fighting tirelessly a single-man war that can never be won? Bruce was pure and perfect now. There was no conceivable way Dick could think of to get back to his own time. All the Justice League members were either without powers, or way too young to know how to help him. _I can do what I was trained to do and prevent a child from losing his family like I lost mine._

Just as Dick contemplated his new plan, his attention was immediately drawn back to reality as an all-too familiar name was announced by Haley.

"AND NOW, THE MOMENT WE'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR! THE REASON YOU'VE ALL ARRIVED-" Bruce and Dick were both on the edge of their seats. "I GIVE YOU, THE FLYING GRAYSONS!"

Dick's mouth dried as a family of dark-haired, sequin clad aerialists were given the spot light high up in the rafters. Dick almost stood to get a better look at his grandparents as they waved, ginning at the audience. He had never met his grandparents before, but here they were, performing the show of their lives in front of their grandson they would never know about. Dick couldn't tear his eyes away from the flips and daring dives performed without a safety net. They flew through the air like birds in flight, enjoying every second of freefall, totally reliant on one another yet totally free of worry.

Dick thought he couldn't be in more awe until Haley's voice boomed throughout the tent, "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I HAVE FOR YOU A VERY SPECIAL TREAT TONIGHT." Dick's hand clasped his mouth as a rush of emotions flooded his body. _No way…_ "TONIGHT, FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HIS CAREER, I GIVE YOU:" _Oh my God…_ "LITTLE JOHNNY GRAYSON!" A small boy, covered head to toe in glitter and sequins stepped out onto the platform sporting the biggest grin ever found on a kid, waving at the audience who cheered rambunctiously for him. Little Johnny Grayson waited for his father's signal before leaping in the air and joining the performance. Watching his father soar through the air… so alive… set the hardened vigilante to tears. He couldn't contain the swell of desperate sadness and euphoric joy from the sight before him and he didn't care if all of Gotham watched as tears quietly poured from his bright blue eyes.

"Hey!" Bruce shouted. "I could be him when I grow up! I could be him right now-" Bruce turned to Dick excited, but stopped as he saw Dick was crying, trying to cover his mouth with his hand. _This is too much,_ Dick thought. He turned to Bruce and tried to smile.

"I'll be right back," Dick stood without further explanation despite Bruce's protests. Behind the tent outside near the performers' trailers, Dick let his emotions run rampant. _I have to save them all._


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you for the kind reviews :) As promised, here's the next chapter.**

* * *

"Let me get this straight," Zatara began as Batman sighed internally. "You want me to take this date," he waved the piece of paper Batman had given him. "And you want me to somehow 'scan' for extreme energy surges?"

"I want you to take that date and scan the days before and after as well," Batman specified. Zatara crossed his arms, annoyed.

"And just how do you expect me to do that?" He waved his arms around, the paper flaying all over the place. "Do you _know_ how much power it would take for me to pick a _specific_ date in history, let alone a specific date and place and then proceed to use _extra_ power, I might not even _have_ by that point to 'scan' for any form of energy spikes?" Batman glared. "What the Hell am I supposed to classify as an 'energy spike' anyways in 19-"

"I just need you to try!" Batman growled, interrupting the magician. "Nightwing's life depends on you finding where and when he is so that you can bring him back."

"Oh! So now you think I can just _rip _him from a specific time and plop him in this specific time here?"

"It is _magic_, isn't it?" Batman retorted dryly. Zatara ground his teeth rigidly.

"Fine," he replied coolly. "But I will require my daughter for extra power." With that Zatara left to find Zatana.

Batman sighed externally this time. _Magicians…_

* * *

"So…" Bruce started as they walked back to the manor.

"Yeah, we don't have to talk about what happened, if that's cool with you," Dick said, predicting where the boy was going to take the conversation. Bruce huffed, but didn't press the issue. _He must be used to not being allowed to talk about certain subjects_. They walked back to the manor with the young Bruce excitedly recounting the events, except one, of the day and embellishing each with the child-like wonderment through which he saw them.

"Uh, oh…" Bruce stopped in his tracks starring down the road. Dick stopped and studied the kid.

"What…" he turned around to see a speeding Rolls Royce heading straight for them.

"I'm so dead," Bruce said, the color draining from his face.

"MASTER BRUCE!" Dick's heart stopped, knowing that tone all too well to find anything about the situation comical. A tall, lean British man in full suit with a full head of brown hair slammed the driver's side door of the Rolls shut vehemently. Dick glanced at Bruce who looked exactly like a deer caught in the headlights. The livid Alfred marched right up to Dick first, seeing him as the threat. Dick was stunned and backed away, quickly raising his hands to show his innocence. Alfred quickly invaded his personal space and jabbing a finger at him said, "And who the Hell are you, sir? I dare say, if you are some sort of kidnapper, you're doing a mighty horrendous job! Just where on Earth did you think you were taking my charge?"

Dick fumbled for words but managed to stammer out five, "back to the manor, sir!"

Alfred's eyes narrowed menacingly and Dick was taken aback upon discovering the origin of the infamous Bat-glare. "Is that right, sir?" Alfred didn't seem to want to believe the oddly dressed youth.

"Alfred!" Bruce tried to take the heat off of Dick, "He saved my life!"

Alfred clearly wanted to unload some sort of wrath upon Bruce but considered his words first. "Explain."

Bruce stammered, now under the full weight of Alfred's glare. "There were these guys and they were going to mug me, b- but, John came and beat them up! Then he took me to the circus-"

Alfred seemed impressed until the last sentence when he turned back to Dick, "The circus!? Just how is that a suitable place for the young lad!? Freaks and the like looking to loot him of all he's worth!" Dick, while intimidated by the younger butler, felt a sharp stab in the chest.

"Circus people aren't like that!" Dick defended himself, though meekly. He gestured to Bruce. "He's fine, isn't he?"

Alfred studied Dick's face and he knew he was being scanned for any falsehoods. Alfred was an incredible judge of character. "Very well." Alfred backed down, though clearly not off guard. "Come along, now Master Bruce, your mother is worried sick."

Bruce glanced at John and proceeded to enter the Rolls Royce. "Thanks John, I had a lot of fun." Bruce waved goodbye glumly.

Alfred looked Dick up and down once more before giving a curt nod and getting into the car, leaving Dick in the middle of Gotham, once again alone and without money. _Damn_.

* * *

"I have found the boy," Zatara stated dryly. He didn't want to boast for fear of the Dark Knight enjoying being right, but the magician was quite proud of himself. Magic is anything but 'specific' and Zatara knew that there could have been countless errors or even dangerous effects from trying to use magic with such precision. Magic, to Zatara, was like a feral dog. It had to be trained and subdued, but if you set it out, you really were at the mercy of the strength of your own will and whether or not you could contain its might.

Zatana sighed, satisfied. "We should be able to bring Nightwing home then?"

Zatara's lips set into a straight line as he thought. "There is no sure answer. It is possible, but I doubt we will have the magic to entirely rip him from this time and into ours." Zatara waved his arm, gesturing to the holographic map of Gotham where a pulsing red dot could be found directly in the heart of the city.

"Then we'll have to do it in small increments of time," Batman ordered, walking into the room. Zatara crossed his arms; a common habit around the Caped Crusader.

"You are asking an awful lot, Dark Knight," Zatara complained sourly.

Batman snapped his attention from the hologram to the magician. His voice was an even, menacing growl, "I'm asking you to save a member of the Justice League who has rescued yourself _and _your daughter more times than you've waved that ridiculous wand."

Zatara had half a mind to remove the magically conjured hologram and to let fate take its course. Of course he didn't as, yet again, Batman was right and Zatara would never let his foolish pride put anyone in danger, especially not Dick.

"You're right," Zatara admitted sheepishly. "I just… am concerned about what might happen should we fail."

Batman regarded the man before him before turning back to the projection. "This is Nightwing?" Zatara nodded. He always found it odd how Batman could never refer to his family by their civilian names while in uniform.

"It should be," Zatara said, his demeanor relaxing. "It's the only object in the world around the time you gave me to be emitting residual energy close to that of Darkseid's portal."

Batman nodded, it seemed logical that Nightwing would be chalk full of background radiation from the teleportation. He grimaced internally, the rest of the League didn't seem to have been affected by Darkseid's energy powers, so Dick should be fine.

"Can you pull him forward, say, a few weeks from where he is?" Batman asked, regarding both Zatana and Zatara.

Zatana looked hopeful, yet afraid and Batman was painfully reminded of her romantic relationship with Nightwing just a couple years prior. _She can't be feeling too much better about this situation than I am_. Dick always had a way of keeping his exes close; something Bruce never seemed to be able to do. Zatara rubbed his chin with his white-gloved hand and seemed deep in thought.

"It is possible," he began. "I can think of a few spells that could potentially do what you're asking." Batman felt a small weight lifted from his shoulders. "However," and then the weight came crashing back down again. "I honestly cannot think of any way that I can move him multiple times in one sitting. The energy it will require to do this, will bleed me dry. That is when Zatana will take over in keeping this tracker in operation." He gestured to the hologram and Batman realized it was a conscious magical effort on Zatara's part to keep it up. "When I am rested, I will be able to try again."

Wonder Woman had been in the doorway for the last part of the conversation and decided to enter the room as she thought of something. "What if this affects Dick's brain damage? We have no idea what sort of injuries he may have sustained when he was flung to this time." Batman frowned.

"Bring J'onn here so that if anything goes wrong, Zatara can stop the process and we can think of a different approach," Batman ordered. He wasn't not going to go through with this plan based on a single concern that may not even be validated, but he wasn't going to take the risk of losing both Nightwing and Martian Man-Hunter.

Wonder Woman nodded and left the meeting room to fetch the Martian. She returned moments later with The Flash who was carrying the in trance J'onn. Zatana jumped to her feet to pull a chair into the center of the room for J'onn. Batman gave her a small smile. _It's a shame it didn't work out between them_.

Zatara looked around, "Are we ready to begin?"

* * *

Dick stretched out on the rooftop under the stars. He rolled his denim jacket under his head as a pillow and thumbed the utility belt under his jeans absently. Now he knew how Bruce must've felt went Darkseid sent him back in time, though Bruce was sent much further back and didn't run into his would-be mentor with a pension for denim. Dick laughed to himself thinking about how Bruce was as a child. So energetic and curious about the world around him. He thought about when they had gone into the McDonald's, an event Dick was happy the boy didn't mention to his butler, and how in awe he was of the grease and processed, chemical filled meat. Bruce had ripped apart his burger, inspecting every component before inhaling it almost in one bite. _Always the detective,_ Dick smiled.

His smile faltered as he looked up at the stars and realized he could see more now than he could in his time. There was less noise pollution as well and the blimps, so readily associated with the city's sky, were nowhere to be seen. He had hoped Bruce would be Batman here but with no Batcave and no Justice League, there was no way to get back. _Maybe I'm not supposed to get back_. Batman had never been a believer in fate or destiny, but Dick tended to lay on the side of, 'everything happens for a reason'. He had been sent to this specific time in history in this specific city for some purpose. It couldn't just be a coincidence that he had met the seven-year-old Bruce Wayne just months before his parents' murder. He could stop Batman from ever happening and with no Batman, there would be no reason for a Robin. Dick could save Bruce's parents and his own. That had to be the reason why he was sent here. Dick never believed in a sentient deity with a long beard wielding lightning bolts, but the Universe definitely had something in mind when it chose him out of the entire League to be trapped in time.

As Dick drifted off to sleep, he was suddenly startled by a dull roar from behind his right ear and a churning in his stomach. His head began to fog and swirl violently, forcing him to vomit and collapse, clutching at his head. Soon it was his entire body flooded with the sensation of drowning. A blinding light enveloped him and human sounds of screaming, laughter and undefinable chatter filled his ears. Then suddenly, as his body became overwhelmed by the sudden influx of information, everything was still.

Dick was on his hands and knees, gagging for breath, his entire body shaking with cold chills. Sweat dampened his hair as it stuck to his face. His Nightwing uniform beneath his red polo and jeans was soaked through and his hands and feet tingled sporadically. Dick heaved himself to his feet but stumbled when blood rushed too quickly to his brain. He blinked wildly and swallowed, testing all his senses at once. The first thing Dick noticed was the sky. The Sun was setting as dark thunder clouds were rolling in over the city. It had been dark and clear before he had fallen asleep. _Time change?_ He thought while his head stopped swirling long enough for him to think. His heart stopped while he was checking for any breaks or physical damage. _I can barely clench my left fist._ Then it hit him.

That roar in his ear wasn't from the time travel, it was from J'onn! The Martian was still connected with his mind! Though the difference in time zones was probably making repairs to his brain somewhat difficult as he felt numb on several parts of his left side. Dick grimaced. _That is the last thing I need right now._ He sat down, regaining his composure and focused on contacting J'onn. Dick wasn't quite sure how telepathy worked, but anytime he wanted to communicate with J'onn or M'gann, he would just think really loudly. He smiled thinking about how childish that might seem to them. _J'ONN! MARTIAN MAN-HUNTER! I'M HERE!_ Dick hoped that their separation hadn't damaged J'onn's mind.

Dick started to get up after several minutes of waiting for a response when a low murmur echoed in his head. He sat back down and tried to concentrate on the sound, but he couldn't make out the words. He was definitely sure that J'onn had heard him though. Dick sighed, unable to communicate with J'onn, but satisfied with letting him know he was still alive, Dick headed down to the street to see when he was now.

Putting his jacket back on, Dick walked up to a newspaper stand and read the date at the top of the paper. He froze. _The 26__th__ of June…_ "What time is it?" Dick ordered the man behind the stand. After receiving a rude look, Dick hoped over the stand and pushed the man against the brick wall of the building behind and repeated, "What time is it?" The man, obviously frightened, lifted his arm to reveal a watch.

"It's 9:30!"

_Just over an hour,_ Dick thought, citing the password used on the grandfather clock to enter the Batcave. "Thanks," Dick dropped the man and grappled to the rooftop before anyone else noticed him. He was ripping off his clothes, revealing his Nightwing uniform beneath as he sprinted from rooftop to rooftop. He returned his mask to his face with a grunt, grappling to a nearby building. _If this is what I'm supposed to do then this is my chance._

* * *

"There," Zatara sighed, whipping sweat from his brow. "I pulled him forward three weeks." Zatana was at her father's said, holding him by the arm to keep him steady. He hadn't exaggerated. Wielding magic in such a precise way was draining.

Batman nodded and turned his attention to the red blip on the hologram. The Dark Knight frowned as the blip flew across the map in one specific direction. Batman followed the path and froze. "When is he?" Batman flung around to Zatara, but the magician was exhausted. Zatana noted the strain in Batman's voice and focused her attention on the hologram.

"He's in June… the… 26th, 19-"

"MOVE HIM." Batman ordered, agitated.

Zatana was caught off guard by the sudden change in Batman's tone and composure. She would've flinched were she not so used to his mood swings. "I- I can't…"

"NOW!" Batman ordered again, "Just move him a day! Any day! Just not _that_ day!"

Zatara was frowning and made to defend his daughter but before he could open his mouth, Zatana sat him in a chair and lifted her arms wide. She took a deep breath, remembering the words and emphasis her father had used only minutes before.

"Do it!" Batman could only imagine what was going on inside Nightwing's head and as he watched the red blip make a bee line for the Monarch Theatre, he felt a pang of grief and pride. _But this just doesn't happen._

* * *

Nightwing leaped from building to building, pushing his tired and ailing body forward. Despite his handicaps, Nightwing was making good time. He could almost see the lights of the Monarch Theatre. The Sun was gone now, replaced by somber shades of blue. The clouds now had taken precedent in the sky and opened up over the young hero as he launched himself up and over a water tower.

Nightwing skidded to a halt, splashing the rain over his legs. He listened carefully, "Hand over the money."

Nightwing bolted to the other side of the Monarch Theatre but just as he hauled himself over the roof to stop the murder of Thomas and Martha Wayne, he felt his body surge with pain and nausea. _Not now!_ He willed his body to stay in the present, he was in the air! Right behind the murderer! He could kick the gun from his hand if he were given just a moment more! Just one moment more…

A blinding, searing hot light enveloped Nightwing as he fell through time. A gunshot rang in his ear, splitting his head with the sheer volume. His body wracked with pain, fell right where the murderer stood. _Had stood…_ Nightwing looked around. There was no rain. There were no Waynes. The gun had been fired.

Nightwing fell to his knees, ignoring the sensations from the time travel and focusing on one single thought. _I failed_… Police tape lay strewn across the alley, carelessly cluttering the brick. A dark stain absorbed Nightwing's attention. He kneeled there in silence, digesting everything that had just happened, before hurling his body to the floor.

"SEND ME BACK! SEND ME BACK!" He beat his fists into the bricks pleading with the Universe for a second chance. He owed Bruce so much more than this failure. His face became wet with tears of rage and desperation. He had been so close. Now a boy who needed him the most, was alone. Torn from everything he had ever known and thrown into a world of anger and revenge. Nightwing's chest panged with grief, realizing that it wasn't only Thomas and Martha Wayne he had failed to save, but that innocent, carefree boy he had taken to the circus was dead now too. Nightwing wailed in the stain of his greatest failure.

* * *

"Send me back," J'onn murmured. "Send me back. Please," J'onn's cool repetition of Nightwing's pleas forced Batman to shut his eyes tight under his cowl. The Flash started to ask why Batman had been so adamant in moving Nightwing, but Batman couldn't answer. He couldn't be in the room anymore. Batman walked briskly from the room, leaving questioning faces in his wake.


	5. Chapter 5

Nightwing sat quietly, his back against the alley wall. The Universe had given him the chance to be the hero he had trained to be his whole life, then screwed him over. He didn't even want to open his eyes. There was no point. There would forever be a Batman and Nightwing would forever remain disjointed from his time. Alone and without reason. As he wondered where his next meal would come from he found himself feeling incredibly guilty, but not as before. _I'm just sitting here sulking while a seven year old boy tries to cope with the loss of his parents._

Nightwing knew he probably shouldn't have taken Bruce to the circus. Hell, once he knew who he was talking to, Nightwing should've bolted like The Flash. But what harm could it have done to the space-time continuum or whatever Tim would have called it to make a boy happy? He almost smirked. Nightwing could only imagine the sort of lecture Tim would give him if he knew he had interacted with someone from his own future. _Always the Sci-Fi nerd._ But this wasn't science-fiction, not anymore.

Nightwing pondered over the dilemma he now faced. _Should I go to Bruce and risk messing with the time line knowing he will still be Batman or should I let fate run its course?_ Bruce would probably let the boy be were the situation reversed. He always said what's done is done, but Nightwing found it difficult to leave a seven year old alone in that manor to deal with his grief. Especially knowing how Bruce deals with grief. Nightwing groaned. Just moments before he was ready to completely re-write history, to prevent Batman from ever existing. Now that he had failed however, the thought of confronting Bruce knotted his stomach and made him want to keep time as it was.

Nightwing stood, coming to a conclusion. He took one last look at the crime scene before grappling to the roof of the theatre and retracing his steps along the skyline of Gotham. Nightwing found the clothes Bruce had bought him strewn across the roofs and put them back on and removed his mask, ashamed.

* * *

The journey to Wayne manor had been quicker than Dick had anticipated. Or quicker than he had hoped. Sneaking onto the grounds was no problem with only Alfred on watch in the kitchen. He trudged through the flowers on the West side of the manor and smiled, thinking back on how many times he had scaled this wall in his youth to get away from Bruce after one of their arguments. He scanned the moon-lit brick and found the window that would lead into Bruce's room; the very room Bruce had given Dick when he moved into the manor.

Dick swallowed, but his throat was dry as he reached for his grapple. Aiming for the corner of the ledge he knew would hold his weight, he began the ascent slowly. Upon reaching the sill, Dick found the room dark save for the fire crackling in the fireplace. He found Bruce sitting on the hearth, knees tucked under his chin and arms crossed across his legs. Dick frowned and mentally prepared himself for anything. He knew Bruce was volatile when talking about his parents, so Dick expected nothing short of a volcano from the seven-year old. Dick popped out a small knife from his belt and jimmied the window open after loosening screws he knew would give way the easiest.

"They're dead," Bruce said monotone as Dick stepped into the room. He wasn't surprised his presence was detected; he made no effort to keep himself silent.

Dick closed the window and stood by the bed, shoulders slumped. "I know."

Bruce turned his head towards Dick, his eyes were bloodshot and his lips were dry as though he had cried out his body's moisture. Dick took several steps forward and when Bruce made no protest, he took a seat next to him in front of the fire. Bruce starred at Dick silently before turning his attention back to the dancing flames. They sat there in companionable quiet for, to Dick, what seemed like an eternity before Bruce spoke.

"I'm going to kill him," his voice cold and clear. Dick took a deep breath and regarded the boy's solid, unemotional mask. _It's already started. _"I'm going to hunt down every criminal in Gotham and I'm going to kill every last one."

"So, you can do what? Become a criminal yourself?" Dick questioned quietly, cutting down the childish logic. "You're not going to kill anyone."

Bruce's face contorted with rage, "You don't know what I'm feeling!" He was standing now, his tiny fists clenched so tightly, his knuckles were bright white. "You don't know me! What I'm capable of!" He was breathing heavily, all the anger and pain he was feeling fixated on Dick.

Dick, sitting calmly, met the boy's fiery gaze with empathy and knowing. "I know exactly what you're feeling." Bruce's eyes narrowed dangerously, but he let Dick continue. "You're feeling like every bright light in the world has gone out and that you're walking in a black hall alone with no way out. You're thinking that 'if I had just stepped a little more to the left, that bullet would've hit me instead'. You're thinking that it was your fault that you left the theatre early because you had a headache and your dad suggested you go home. You're thinking that there's nothing in the entire world you want to do more than find that drugged out mugger who stole everything you ever held dear and make him suffer the exact pain you're feeling right now." Bruce's breathing slowed, but his fists were still ready to wail. Dick glanced at them and added, "And just for good measure, you're thinking about how satisfying it would be to break my nose."

Bruce glared at Dick for a moment before allowing his mask to melt away and relaxing his hands to his sides. The raw emotion suddenly displayed on the boy's face was heart-wrenching, but Bruce couldn't see Dick was hurting too. Dick had to be strong now for him.

"Why…" Bruce started, but his voice cracked and his nose began to run. He whipped away the snot on his pajama sleeve and looked pathetically at the floor boards under his bare feet.

Dick didn't know why. He didn't know why anything happened. He didn't know why parents could be ripped away from their children or why he couldn't have been there in time. All he knew was there was a boy, broken and alone, in need of some help. "Come here," Dick beckoned, his arm spread out to welcome the boy. Bruce looked like he wanted to argue away the kind gesture, but his need for human comfort got the better of him and he sat beside Dick, allowing the young man to wrap his arm around him protectively. Dick consciously steadied his breathing as Bruce rested his head on his torso and relaxed.

"What happens now?" Bruce whispered.

Dick cleared his throat and thought about how to answer. "Now you think about all the good memories you have of your parents."

Bruce was quiet and Dick felt hot liquid fall onto his hand at a steady pace and knew Bruce was crying but didn't want Dick to know. "I don't have a family. I'm going to be alone for the rest of my life." Bruce stated in resignation.

Dick shook his head, "No, Bruce. You have a family and you may not see it now but you will _never_ be alone, do you hear me?" Dick moved Bruce so he could lock eyes to reaffirm his sincerity. "You're _never _alone."

Bruce starred back at Dick but it was obvious the boy didn't believe him. Just the same rhetoric any orphan hears, but he knew better. "Will you be with me?" Bruce asked, more accusingly than questioningly.

Dick starred back, not knowing what to say. "Yes," he answered finally, not willing to say anything else. _It's the truth. Not the whole truth, but the truth._ Bruce seemed puzzled and looked like he was ready to retort, but took a deep breath instead and said nothing more. Dick shut his eyes willing himself back to his time. Kids were painful enough to deal with, but dealing with a young Bruce was almost more than Dick wanted to handle.

They sat by the fire for a while quietly. Sometimes Bruce would begin to cry, but he never made a sound, just hid behind his already forming mask. Dick didn't want to press the issue and let the kid cry as he pleased and was thankful to some extent that he didn't try to make conversation. After a few hours, Dick noticed Bruce's breathing was slow and deep and that he no longer shuddered from silent sobs. Dick slowly moved his arm under Bruce's legs and cradled his head with his numb arm. Dick stood and lowered him gently into the bed Dick would occupy years from now. The fire was low and harmless, so Dick left it to burn out on its own. He took one last look at the boy before leaving through the window.

* * *

"Dad, look!" Zatana rushed happily into the room holding up an old and tattered book.

"What, darling?" Zatara asked absently, concentrating on the hologram. He had had a full night's sleep and was feeling fully refreshed after the previous day's exertion. Zatana waited patiently as her father finished his thought and turned to her, his brow raised curiously.

"I found a spell I think would help," she pointed to a mess of characters Batman couldn't decipher so he turned his attention back to monitoring J'onn's vitals. Zatara read the writing slowly and made several large huffs to express his skepticism. Batman rolled his eyes. "Well, it's not designed for time travel," Zatana began to defend, sensing her father's disapproval. "But, look there," she pointed to a specific passage. "I think it would help pull him forward quicker with less strain."

Zatara rubbed his chin and hummed as he read. Finally, he looked up at his daughter and replied, "It would require a joint effort. This isn't a spell I'm comfortable casting alone."

Zatana nodded and admitted, "I didn't want to do it myself either."

Batman decided to enter the conversation now, "Can you bring him to our time?"

Zatara shook his head. "Not at all. A few years, maybe. But even with this to aid us, there is not the magic available, as I have said before."

Batman sighed internally. "Then what are we waiting for?"


	6. Chapter 6

Dick awoke before sunrise and immediately grinned. _Now that's what I'm talking about._ His left side was sore from the hard concrete roof and his hand tingled with sensation. _Way to go, J'onn, _Dick thought relieved that sensation had returned. The buzzing behind his right ear was still there, though it had calmed to a low hum and was almost ignorable. He jumped to his feet but instantly wished he hadn't when his body angrily reminded him he hadn't eaten since McDonald's and that that meal had been forcibly evicted. Dick rubbed his empty tummy and pouted. _Batman would have my head if he knew I was letting myself go this long without food._ He sighed and made his way down to the streets below. _Thankfully, I'm in a town where crime is king._ He thought with bitter-sweet sarcasm, regarding a small deli still closed for the night.

Popping out his knife from his belt, Dick made short work of the lock. He closed the door behind him and found the cheapest produce available and began chowing down. Satisfied with his meal, Dick found his strength return and left a note on the counter explaining his plight and promising to pay back the owner in the future. Dick made his way down an alley he knew would meet up with the main road when his body shocked him with the now familiar sensation of drowning. _Damn!_ Dick thought about nothing else but keeping his sustenance down. He willed himself not to vomit as a blinding hot light enveloped him for the fourth time and sent him ricocheting through time.

Dick, grabbing his stomach that was twisting and turning in complaint, groaned and kept his eyes shut willing his head to stop spinning. _I don't know how Darkseid's powers work and I'm not going to embarrass myself by pretending I do, but this is happening way too frequently to be some sort of byproduct of unintentional time travel._ Dick thought it had to do something with magic. _Zatana…_ he thought, but he only guessed his ex-girlfriend had something to do with this whole mess. His body never liked magic and his body certainly didn't like what he was experiencing now. He opened his eyes and took in the alley. It hadn't changed, save for the lighting as the Sun now appeared around its zenith. He ground his teeth. _When am I now?_ Dick lugged himself out of the alley and into the bustling street. The noises of the city were a welcome difference to the deafening roar of time travel. He ran his hand through his thick, black hair and regained his composure, walking out into the mass of men, women and children of Gotham.

Only happy that he kept his food down, Dick greeted a newspaper sales man with one of his award winning smiles. The sales man grunted in response and eyed Dick's clothes. _Not in fashion anymore?_ He laughed under his breath unsure that it was ever in fashion.

The paper's headline read: GOTHAM'S PRINCE RETURNS FOR ONE WEEK. A picture of a suave, well-dressed and muscular teen leaving a plane took up the majority of the front page. Dick made a mental note to show this picture to Bruce when and if he ever got back, as the youth shown sported flowing unkempt locks similar to Nightwing's haircut several years ago. He tried to guess Bruce's age and assumed he was looking at a surly fifteen year old. Dick wondered how he was doing, why he had returned. He remembered Bruce tell him about how he trained. Alfred had sent him abroad to study, but Bruce had ended up studying a lot more than academics and only came back when he was twenty-one. Shortly afterwards, Batman made his first appearance and Bruce amassed a following of drunken party girls and wealthy playboys. _I wonder if Batman is already at the forefront of that kid's head._

Dick wondered aimlessly, trying to think about happier things. One of his many talents was the ability to maintain a cheery disposition, despite the cruel and humorless situations the Universe plopped Dick in all the time. If the Justice League was manipulating time, or at least the time around him, then he concluded maintaining history as it was, was for the best. _I just need to stay out of trouble and keep my head down until the League can pull me back home._

* * *

Dick spent the day in the park, watching the children play in the fountain Thomas Wayne had commissioned. Gotham wasn't all bad, but the corruption that inspired Batman's war on crime was evident without too much digging. The citizens left a wide berth between themselves and the police and made sure to keep the children away from any dark corners. Dick found evidence everywhere and was reminded strongly of the hopelessness he felt as Robin. The war was so time-consuming then. Even as Nightwing, alone in Blüdhaven, he worked less than he ever had when Robin started. Batman really had changed the city from the core. _Doesn't make it any less hard knowing how I could've helped him…_

The Sun began to set and Dick found it concerning how he had spent the whole time in the park and not once had a cop come to question his motives. They just didn't care here. _Well, it helps me keep my head down…_

As if on cue, as the park was emptied, Dick jumped to his feet hearing a trash can bang violently in an alley behind him. Several grunts confirmed something illegal was going down. _Everything always happens in a damn alley way_. Dick quickly checked he was alone before slapping on his mask and removing his denim.

The alley was occupied with four men. Three in the usual thug get-up which apparently never goes out of fashion, and the fourth in all black, including a ski mask. _Too easy,_ he began to think, loving the stereotypical clothing. Before he settled the disagreement between the men, the fourth in all black had subdued the three others with several swift kicks. Dick recognized the style as a form of martial arts which focused on leg work, not the typical fighting style of a Gotham back-alley thug. He was going to let the fight end there, keeping his head down and all, but decided to intervene when the man in black pulled out a knife.

"Whoa there, buddy!" Nightwing called, performing a back-hand spring and knocking the knife into the air. He flipped to his feet and caught the blade with a cocky grin. "Don't you think winning is enough?" He asked, throwing the weapon to the back of the alley. The man in black was shorter than Nightwing initially thought. He crouched, apparently thinking about his next move and, Nightwing assumed, caught off guard but his super hero uniform.

"You know," Nightwing began, keeping his cocky attitude he knew the criminals just loved so much. "Ski masks are _really_ dated."

The man in black lunged for Nightwing, striking several times. Each attack was easy enough for Nightwing to deflect, but he noticed the sheer strength behind each blow. _He'd be a lot harder to defend against if he knew how to use all that power properly._ Nightwing grinned with each blow, taunting his assailant.

"Come on," he laughed. The man growled, evidently irritated. He had taken down the three thugs without breaking a sweat and now some freak in a mask was toying with him like a puppy with a cat's tail.

The man in black slipped, tiring himself out which allowed Nightwing to put his patience to the test. Nightwing slipped his hand through his opponent's defenses and grabbed the cotton ski mask, ripping it from his head.

Nightwing jumped back, easily evading several more kicks. "You know," he started, regarding the man with a lop-sided grin. "I _really_ wish I was surprised."

Bruce Wayne's long hair was matted to his face with sweat, his mouth contorted with both irritation and concentration. Nightwing noted how much more muscular Bruce was then he had been as a teenager, but he was disappointed. Ironically, by fifteen, Nightwing had far better training.

Bruce, as stubborn as ever, growled and jumped at Nightwing. He threw a knee at Nightwing's chin that was smacked down. Each punch or kick was batted away, adding to Bruce's furry.

"You're fighting angry," Nightwing chided, playfully. Bruce emitted some low, guttural sound and stopped to regain his baring.

"Maybe 'cause I AM angry!" He yelled and punched wildly. He noticed Nightwing's lack of offense and was insulted. "Hit me!" He goaded. "Fight back!"

Nightwing laughed, dancing around Bruce with expert agility. This infuriated Bruce even more. He reached into his boot and pulled out a second knife. Nightwing's laughter faded immediately. Bruce took his silence as a show of fear and smirked. He made to swing at the masked hero but gasped when his wrist was pinned, as quickly as lightning, to the wall behind him. Nightwing was mere centimeters from his face, his face set in a terrifying glare. The blade fell to the concrete with a somber clang. It took Bruce a moment to realize his feet weren't touching the ground. Nightwing clutched one hand around Bruce's wrist while the other lifted the boy by the neck, leaving just enough room for him to breathe.

"What do you think you were going to do, kid?" Nightwing hissed, channeling his act from his Batman days.

Bruce grunted, struggling to free himself. "Teach criminals a lesson," he spat.

"You think you were going to kill me? Kill them?" He nodded to the unconscious thugs on the ground.

Bruce didn't respond but his gaze faltered as he regarded the helpless men. Nightwing waited for his breathing to slow, making sure he was calm before letting Bruce go. Bruce fell to the ground and quickly scrambled to his feet.

Nightwing sighed and ran his gloved hands through his hair, shaking the locks with stress. Bruce starred back at him, looking him up and down curiously, but still cautious.

Nightwing shook his head. "What makes you think you can just kill people?" He asked calmly.

Bruce gave a small shrug, "They're just common criminals. Worthless."

Nightwing immediately thought how satisfied R'as would be to hear the Dark Knight say that. He shook his head and answered passionately, "No, there's no such thing as 'worthless'." He pointed to the men. "You see them? That's somebody's son, somebody's brother…" He advanced on Bruce to emphasize his point. "That's somebody's father." Bruce swallowed, but glared stubbornly. "Are you going to tell me, you'd be _fine_ stealing a father from a son in some back alley?" Bruce didn't miss the point. His eyes darted around, looking at anything but Nightwing's masked eyes.

"No," he whispered, suddenly finding his boots very interesting.

Nightwing took in the pathetic appearance of the teen and decided to relax his voice. "You're all that's left of who your parents were." Bruce's eyes shot up at the mention of his parents, but he let Nightwing continue. "Don't turn them into murderers." Bruce understood exactly what Nightwing was talking about and nodded limply.

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence before Bruce spoke again, his voice stronger. "Who are you?" Nightwing popped his lips, not knowing how to respond.

"That's a good question," he said.

Bruce wasn't impressed. "You never came back," he accused and Nightwing targeted the hurt in his otherwise restrained tone. He sighed.

"I know," he replied, feeling useless.

"You're exactly the same," Bruce stated curiously. Nightwing removed his mask and picked up his denim from the opening of the alley and put it back on. Bruce's brain seemed to be working in overtime trying to solve this new mystery and Dick found it impossible to look away. His face changed from confusion to wonderment to anger. _Shocking, _Dick thought. "You…" Bruce looked like he wanted to state his conclusion, but was afraid of being wrong. Dick cocked his head, waiting for Bruce's thought.

"You," his eyes narrowed in disbelief. "You travel through time." He paused and spat, "Nice outfit." Dick was impressed which left a bitter-sweet taste in his mouth. He didn't want his former mentor to be so clever in his youth. Dick didn't respond. "Why me then?" Bruce asked, connecting the dots. Dick shook his head, his mouth gapping like a fish out of water and shrugged.

Bruce ignored Dick's response and his face became stern and hurt, "Why didn't you save them?" The venom in his young, former mentor was painful.

"I couldn't," he responded, honestly. "Trust me, I tried, but… I couldn't."

Bruce took a deep breath, but Dick knew he didn't want to forgive him. He needed someone to blame and Dick found he was fine with it being him.

"But…"

"Just remember that you are their memory," Dick began. He wasn't going to leave before he knew Batman wouldn't kill. "Protect the people. Rehabilitate the criminals. Help them like your father did his whole life. He dedicated himself to helping these people." Bruce watched Dick closely. "You've got to-" Dick stopped midsentence. He clutched at his head as it began to swirl and fog violently. His body began to shake with chills and a dull roar filled his ears. The familiar and now-hated feeling of drowning took over and Dick was flung forward in time with a blinding flash of light.

Dick fell to his knees into a puddle and coughed. "Oh, God!" He proclaimed, wishing he could blow his head off. _Cash and Tylenol…_ he thought, remembering his promise to reorganize his utility belt. _Well,_ he thought, lifting himself to his feet. _That could've gone better._ He grappled to the building above in search of signs of when he landed. _Oh, good._

Dick sighed, relieved as more familiar buildings dotted the skyline of Gotham. He was closer to his time, but not everything was as it should be. The orphanage, for one, was still not erected. _No Robin, then._ He leaped across the alley to the adjacent roof, running across the buildings in no specific path. He always thought best when he was on patrol. _And if I keep going forward in time, there's nothing to worry about. _Hauling himself over a roof shed, he froze. A black, armored tank outfitted with sleek, streamlined fins was parked below. He crouched, not wanting to be seen by anyone who may be inside and grinned at the familiar sight.

Dick realized nobody was inside when a rough looking overweight thug came flying through the lamp-lit street and landed into a dumpster. Dick couldn't help but grin as a tall, ominous shadow loomed over the man who was now clearly terrified. Dick was always a fan of the theatrics.

"Where's the shipment headed, Harry?" The nightmare-inducing voice sent Harry into a fit of panic.

He flailed helplessly among the garbage, trying in vain to move his bulk away from the creature of the night before him. "No, please! I've got a family, two boys… a… a wife!" He scrambled over the side of the dumpster and fell pathetically on his greasy stomach. "Please!"

Dick helplessly felt like a child again, anticipating the next move in awe.

"Down by the docks, there's a manhole marked with green paint!" Harry squealed. "That's all I know, I swear!" He held out his hands in submission.

"Thank you," Harry was lifted from his feet and knocked unconscious. Alive, but very unconscious.

Dick watched as Batman unlocked the Batmobile and glided over the concrete like a shadow. Dick's heart stopped. While repositioning himself, his denim jacket scrapped loudly across the roof's concrete. He'd never worn buttons on patrol before and the fact that he hadn't thought about being careful made him berate himself violently in his head. Batman froze.

Dick ducked but he could've sworn the Bat had seen him already. Dick didn't move until he heard the ignition start and the Batmobile race off into the night. He looked below, Batman was gone. He sighed, relieved.

The busy hustle and bustle of the day was just beginning as Dick made his way down town. It wasn't hard to see the differences between this Gotham and the one he had just left. The streets were cleaner, the people were louder and there were definitely more children. Batman had already made a real difference.

He passed an electronic sales store and saw the local news station appear. He stopped to see the date. His mouth went dry.

"Well, it sure is a happy day in Gotham, isn't it Phil?" Said the co-host sporting dynamite red lipstick.

"It sure is, Diana. The circus is in town and Bruce Wayne, Gotham's own millionaire, has announced he will be funding the festival and that all proceeds will go to charity. Now isn't that just nice?"

"He's one heck of a guy, Phil. Though we have been told, Mr. Wayne himself will not be in attendance."

Dick's brow furrowed. _Not be in attendance?_ His heart raced. He felt like he was a volcano and was ready to explode in any moment. He had to get out of here, had to leave. This was the one day he couldn't relive. He had to move forward.

He ran. He didn't care where, he just ran. He collapsed under a bridge by a train track and covered his head with his arms. _Send me forward! PLEASE! ANYWHERE ELSE! _

His breathing was quick and shallow and his heart felt like it was going to burst. What could he do? _I have two options…_

Dick felt like throwing up as he contemplated his choices. He could either save his parents and never be Robin, never be Nightwing. Or, he could let them die and chose the life he already had. The issue wracked his body with physical pain. Anyone would think it were the easiest question. Obviously, you save your parents.

But then there was Bruce.

Could he save his parents and change his destiny while leaving Bruce alone to his fate? Who would be there for Batman? Who would make sure that he didn't fall too deep into the darkness?

He could save the only father he ever wanted, or the only father he ever had.

His stomach knotted as an image of a seven year old Bruce skipping and laughing, said, "You owe me!"

_I owe you a lot more than that…_

* * *

Dick lifted the plastic casing from the keypad and rubbed his chin before punching in a six digit code. The access bar took a moment before flashing green and signaling for the rock wall to slide open. It was quieter than Dick had remembered, but everything new tends to be. He slipped inside the Batcave, noticing a few differences here and there as the entrance slid close behind him. He continued deeper into the cliff side, but slowed when he heard the splatter of the waterfall. He spied the Batmobile in its regular parking space and figured Batman was also within. He smirked, finding himself growing more and more nervous.

Sneaking up on Batman was always fun, but that was when he knew Dick wasn't an enemy invading his home. If he didn't approach this right, he would end up in a lot of trouble. Especially since he was out of uniform.

He snuck up to the center of the cave and found Batman, as expected, glued to his oversized monitor deciphering clues and data. He smirked, deciding on how to play this. Batman wouldn't be totally on guard since he wasn't used to having little boys trying to surprise him, at least, not yet.

"So," Dick began nonchalantly, resting his elbow on the Batmobile. "No big plans for tonight?" Dick felt an incredible surge of satisfaction as he watched the Caped Crusader whirl around, his face a mixture of alarm and instant curiosity before it was replaced by the typical stoic mask. Dirk smirked, loving every second of Bruce's surprise. He tossed a Joker card he picked up on the way in back and forth calmly, waiting for a response.

Bruce, with his cowl draped over his shoulders, inspected Dick for a moment before quipping sarcastically, "Nice outfit. Come to give me another lesson on morality?"

Dick looked himself up and down with mock insult before hopping up the steps to join Bruce in front of the giant monitors. "Nope!" He exclaimed, prodding a finger at the black bat-symbol. "I've come to take _you_ to the circus!" He grinned cheekily, but Bruce seemed unimpressed.

"You pop in and out of my life, never aging a day, never changing your clothes; you sneak into my cave-"

"'Batcave'."

"Batcave?"

"Batcave."

Bruce shook his head, "And then you say you want me to go to the circus with you." He paused, painfully waiting for an explanation which Dick, still tossing around a Joker card, was evidently not going to give. "Who the _Hell_ are you?"

Dick shrugged, "Look, I'm just a guy that likes the circus and, you know what, quite honestly, has _no _control whatsoever on where in time he ends up." Bruce starred, completely without speech. "I thought you loved the circus."

Bruce frowned and turned back to the monitor, "Things have changed, maybe not for you, but I'm not that _kid_ you met in the alley."

Dick sobered, his heart aching. "I know," he murmured. He sighed. "Look, just, change into Bruce, attend your own charity- I'll tell you who I am after we enjoy the show."

This peaked Bruce's attention. One of the greatest mysteries of Batman's life that he just couldn't solve was standing right in front of him, offering up a full explanation. He studied Dick intently, analyzing his face for lies. What he didn't know was he was analyzing a face he had trained to lie.

"You'll tell me everything," Dick gave a lopsided smile at the demand and nodded.

"Sure."

* * *

"Just like old times, isn't it Brucie?" Dick asked, as they entered the circus tent. He forced himself to smile despite the raging tempest threatening his very sanity within.

Bruce, frowning, gave Dick a sidelong glance of contempt and replied, "I offered you a suit. Did you really have to wear that in public?"

"You picked it out," Dick answered slyly and Bruce clenched his jaw, clearly not wanting to be in this present situation at all.

They took their seats and Dick tried his hardest to remain calm. Dick offered Bruce popcorn, but the millionaire waved it off. His face was set in a concerned glower.

"Bruce, that's not exactly the look the public expect," Dick chided, playfully.

Bruce glanced at Dick, but continued to scan the area. "Something doesn't feel right."

Dick raised his brow, "No?" Bruce shook his head and replied in a low tone.

"The other night Batman was called out here to settle a dispute," Dick listened as though he had no idea what Bruce was talking about. "Some thug was roughing up a few of the performers and threatened their lives."

"You don't say," Dick said dully.

"It just didn't sit right with me."

Before they could continue their conversation, a heavy and gray-haired Haley began his welcome to the audience and the show began. The acts rolled by like a blur to Dick. He couldn't focus, knowing what was to come. Just before he felt himself grow dangerously woozy, Haley stepped into the center ring and announced the final act.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN," Dick's heart was in his throat, his eyes watery and his head whirling with dread. "THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR! THE FAMILY THAT DOES IT ALL! I GIVE YOU: THE FLYING GRAYSONS!"

The spotlight hit the family with glorious radiance as the crowd roared with excitement. Bruce was clapping loudly, a smile almost on his lips. Dick's parents flew through the air with such poise, such grace- Dick couldn't bear to look away, though it made him sick to watch. _I made my choice,_ he reminded himself while his hands shook violently.

His throat burned when Haley's voice echoed through the tent once more, "TONIGHT LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, PERFORMING FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HIS CAREER: LITTLE DICKIE GRAYSON!"

Dick's eyes were glued to the eight year old he barely remembered. He knew it was soon. It was so soon. Too soon.

"He's remarkable," Dick heard Bruce comment.

"Yeah…" he whispered.

Then it all happened. As quickly as Dick remembered. First the pole slipped. Then the cord snapped. Then the world ended.

Dick's world was all a blur. He shut out the sounds of the crowd's screams and the burning lights from the ring. He crawled inside himself, into the safest hole he could imagine and there he breathed. In and out. Slowly.

When he opened his eyes we was staring at Bruce whose attention was absorbed by the eight year old boy, crying out for his parents to get up. His jaw had dropped and his body had gone still. Dick couldn't look at what Bruce was watching so intently, so he focused on the millionaire.

"He's just a boy," Bruce muttered to himself.

Dick swallowed, hard. "Go to him."

Bruce took a long second to pull his gaze from the boy to Dick. He shook his head and gaped, questioningly. He made to respond, but couldn't form the words.

Dick ordered softly, "Go to him. He needs you."

Bruce snapped his head back to watch the boy, who Dick could only assume was now covered in his parents' blood. Bruce stood slowly and stepped down from his seat, not looking back at Dick. He walked steadily to the center ring and knelt to the ground. Dick felt his face grow hot and wet, but he didn't have the capacity to think or to feel. He stood and left the circus.


	7. Chapter 7

Dick fiddled with the switches and levers lining the wall of the Batcave. Or, soon to be named Batcave. He sighed with a small smile, remembering how he had run around the cave giving everything a bat-prefix. Bat-mobile, bat-cave, bat-grapple, bat-arang… he even thought about naming himself Batboy, but Robin seemed more appropriate in the end.

He glanced at the clock at the bottom of the Batcomputer. _They'd be at the police station by now, trying to explain how Zucco did it. Gordon trying to console yet another victim of Gotham's corruption._ He didn't know where else to go so he had just returned home. _Home… That kid's in for a Hell of a shock…_

Dick sat in Batman's chair waiting. Waiting for this night to end for the second time. His heart had slowed incredibly, making him feel almost comatose. It was as if time had decided to drag out his pain and halt entirely. _What have I done?_ Dick prayed to whatever god or gods that would hear him and begged for there to be fate. For him to have something else to blame for his parent's death other than himself. If it was his fate to be Robin, then what happened tonight wasn't his fault, he only aided fate in its mission. If one's fate was, on the other hand, dictated by one's actions, then Dick had nobody to blame; not Zucco, not Haley, not even Batman for the predicament he now found himself. _How can you make that choice? Who lives and who dies… especially when it's the lives of the people you… shit, it's about time I left._ Dick stood, his head rushing and his body tingling. _Time to go._ A roaring rush of noise and a now welcomed blinding light enveloped him once more as Dick was flung forward in time, finally escaping the past.

* * *

Dick was standing exactly where he had been just a few moments before, only now he knew he wasn't alone. Footsteps and excited chatter echoed down to the cave from the mansion entrance and he knew they would be down soon. Dick silently crouched behind the Batcomputer, carefully avoiding the sudden drop into the abyss below as he crept along the back of the machinery and situated himself carefully.

Dick grinned hearing a voice so very familiar and yet entirely alien. "C'mon Batman! I got my suit on and everything!"

"It's a school night, Dick. Don't you have a test tomorrow?" Dick heard Bruce say while buttons were clicked on the keyboard.

"Tsst, yeah, in math! Easy stuff…I don't have to be awake for that!"

"Dick," Bruce's voice was firm but patient and Dick couldn't believe how gentle it sounded. He realized Bruce hadn't been so 'fatherly' in years. _Losing sons and friends has hardened him… probably me too…_

Dick heard the boy sigh, defeated. "Alright, but I want a cookie." Dick had to stifle a chuckle. _I am adorable._

Bruce chuckled softly, "Deal. I think Alfred just made some. Goodnight, Dick. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Bruce!" and with that, the young aerialist bounded back up the stone steps and disappeared back inside the manor. Dick waited for Batman to don the cowl but he was anything but patient. It had been years since Dick had last tried to hide behind the Batcomputer and suffice it to say, he wasn't as small as he used to be. He thought he heard Bruce stand and move to the Batmobile, but it hadn't been soon enough as Dick's foot slipped and a stone was sent cascading down the cavern, making as much noise as possible as if the stone had had some secret vendetta against the young hero. Dick grimaced and would have laughed had it not been counter to his goal. He waited a moment more, the cave was silent.

"Are you just going to stay back there and keep pretending I didn't hear that, or are you stuck?" Batman's growl permeated the silence and Dick picked up on the ounce of humor in his tone. He sighed, defeated.

"No, I'm comin' out…" Dick inched his way back around to the front of the computer. He stretched his back and grinned sheepishly up at the cowl-less Batman.

Bruce had his arms crossed and his face expressed a bemused anticipation. "Nice outfit."

Dick laughed but froze and made to hide when he heard a boy's voice call down, "I can't find my elephant!"

Bruce turned to the stairs to respond, "Alfred washed it, try the laundry room!" The Dark Knight turned his attention back to the familiar intruder but was startled to see him hiding behind a boulder a couple feet away.

Dick popped his head around to make sure that the kid wasn't in the cave, then stepped out from behind the giant rock. _I don't remember seeing myself._

"Nice kid," Dick commented.

Bruce regarded him for a moment before walking past him and typing away on the keyboard, evidently adding last minute information on a case he was working.

"I know who you are," Bruce said calmly, still entering data. Dick's heart jumped. There was no way Bruce could know who he was, but Dick quickly recognized Bruce's method of discussing emotional matters and realized he in fact did know. Bruce would always busy himself with mundane tasks, such as entering data into files or sharpening Batarangs, whenever they talked about topics a little heavier than who had escaped from Arkham. It took Dick a long time to understand Bruce wasn't just ignoring him and now he found the façade almost endearing. That is, if one can find anything about the Caped Crusader 'endearing'.

Dick folded his arms and moved to rest against the metal desktop beside his former and present mentor. "Sure," he started. "I'm the guy that whooped your ass in an alley."

Bruce stopped typing for a moment to give Dick a sidelong glare, but Dick found the humor in his eye and assumed he was in the clear. Bruce turned back to the monitor. "I was a kid then."

"That doesn't mean much. You of all people should know kids can do a lot of damage," Dick said, regarding Bruce carefully.

"How's the future?" Bruce asked, nonchalantly.

Dick gave a sarcastic laugh, "You're testing me! You know I can't say anything." Bruce smiled, but kept typing. "I mean, you trained me better than that."

Bruce stopped typing again, his hands falling helplessly to the sides of the keyboard. His face was pained and he sighed deeply. Dick didn't say anything, allowing Bruce the time to gather his thoughts.

"So," Bruce started. "This whole thing," he looked up at Dick and the young hero was met with a glimmer of fear before Bruce had the chance to reign it back in. "You don't…?"

_He's worried Robin will get hurt._ Dick smiled, "I'm fine." Bruce nodded, relieved but still pained. He shook his head and glanced between Dick and the monitor, not knowing where to direct his next statement.

"You were there that night," Bruce began and Dick frowned, sending his attention directly to the cave floor. "Why didn't you save them?" Dick's throat felt raw and his stomach churned unpleasantly. The silence of the cave was broken only by the cheerful noises from the manor of a boy and his butler. Dick regarded the manor entrance, thoughtfully and sighed.

"Then who would be here to save you?" He asked quietly, dropping his gaze back to the floor.

* * *

Batman wasn't an incredibly patient man. Sure, he liked to preach to his robins about the virtue, but at the end of the day, he was just as unnerved by idiots as everyone else. Sometimes, even more so. This was one of those times.

"Batman, the Lanterns can't decide where this part of the ceiling goes."

"Batman, the Joker robbed Gotham City Bank an hour ago."

"Batman, Cyborg needs your encryption key to reboot the system."

"He's exhausted his power, should I try to pull him forward? I think I can do it again." Zatana asked, wringing her hands.

Batman growled. Today was not going so well. After trying to repair the superficial damage done by Darksied's invasion, Cyborg did some technical reconnaissance only to find the entire system had been fried. The essentials were still online such as the artificial gravity, oxygen and lights, but the rest was shot. Batman wasn't too worried about any lost information as he was constantly backing up any and all files from the Watchtower onto his personal Batcomputer, but the panic it caused was way more than he wanted to deal with at the moment.

"Just make sure you keep a lock on Nightwing," Batman said to Zatana who looked rather disappointed. He left the room before finding out if she would argue with him and sought out Cyborg. The metal man was in the control room, his own personal screens projected around him.

"Cyborg," Batman addressed. "How's the backup coming?"

The half-human continued his work and responded, almost irritated, "I don't know whether to thank you for making copies of everything on the Watchtower, or be very afraid. Either way, the transfer is making good time. I should have everything back to normal by the end of the day. It'll be finicky though, she ain't as stable as she was this morning." The technology on the satellite was somewhat of Cyborg's brain-child and it was painfully obvious that he was pretty pissed about it being messed up by Darksied. "I just keep running into security I _somehow_ can't override, which _really _scares me." Cyborg said, glaring at Batman accusingly. Batman, without a word, took Cyborg's metal arm where he had been typing, and entered various passcodes to get by his security. "Thanks."

"Just make sure we get everything," Batman said, turning to leave the control room.

Of course, then Batman's day got worse. The Flash sped in full speed to the control room just as Plastic Man, carrying various large metal pieces of debris, extended himself across the room. The Flash clotheslined on the stretching hero and was flung directly into Cyborg, knocking him into an open compartment on the main computer into a mess of exposed wires.

"Cyborg!" Batman yelled but the noise of the metal man's screams and the frying of electricity drowned him out. The lights of the Watchtower flickered and Batman heard another scream, this time a woman's, coming from down the hall. The Watchtower blacked out, but was soon illuminated by the pinkish backup lights.

"Flash! Take care of Cyborg!" The speedster stood, rubbing his head, and began to help Victor back to his feet. He was going to be alright.

Batman rushed down the hall, his cape billowing behind him as he skirted to a halt in the room he had just left Zatana. He froze. The Hologram was gone and Zatana was lying unconscious on the floor. Zatara, still too weak to stand on his own from transporting Nightwing, was bending over in his chair, holding onto her hand. J'onn was still in a trance, unharmed, fortunately.

"What happened?" Batman growled at the older magician. Zatara shot him a look of disdain. Batman scooped up Zatana and placed her gently into a chair and turned back to the other man for an explanation.

"She was trying to bring Nightwing closer to us," already Batman didn't like where this was going. "Then, the computers and lights began to spark and –"

"And magic is highly conductive," Batman finished. Zatara nodded glumly. Zatana had been trying to help when she was shocked by a nearby outlet. "What about Nightwing?" Batman was losing his patience. As unhappy as he was that Zatana was hurt, none of this would have happened had she just listened to him. Now they had lost their magic connection to him, which took an exorbitant amount of magic to establish in the first place, and they also had no idea where he could have ended up.

Zatara was stung that his daughter's well-being was so easily cast aside, but he frowned nonetheless and replied, shaking his head, "I'm sorry."


	8. Chapter 8

**I want to thank all of you for your kind comments and for the motivation to keep updating! I wanted to prolong the upload of this last chapter as long as possible as this is the end! I hope you all have enjoyed the story and thank you again!**

**ALSO: Before ANYONE says anything else about Batman Beyond, NO THIS IS NOT ANYTHING TO DO WITH THAT. I hated that whole concept. Thank you.**

* * *

Dick wretched and writhed violently on a cold, dusty ground, coughing up phlegm and maybe blood, though it was too dark to know for sure. His insides were on fire, protesting whatever it was that had just sent him whenever he was. He pressed his palms to the sides of his head, pleading with it to stop pounding with agony. When his head finally calmed, Dick rolled over onto his back and started working on his breathing. His heart was racing and his limbs felt like jelly; painfully burnt jelly.

After what seemed like forever, his body finally found a peaceful state and allowed him to stand without vomiting. Dick wiped the sweat from his brow and took in his surroundings. It was dark, cold and damp. A cave. Maybe the Batcave, but there were no lights or other indicators that that was where he was. He walked around, trying to find some light. His shoe kicked what felt like a metal rod and suddenly his was met with blinding red light and blaring klaxons.

"INTRUDER ALERT, INTRUDER ALERT!" Came a female, robotic voice that echoed menacingly throughout the cave. Dick clapped his hands to his ears and tried to find an escape, but before he bolted in any direction, his ankles were caught by some sort of bola and he once again fell, unceremoniously, to the ground. The alarm was silenced and the red light was replaced by a softer yellow, allowing Dick to see he was in fact still in the Batcave. Or, at least, some version of the Batcave. Everything was covered in muslin and the place smelled old and abandoned.

"I've got to say, Dick," came an old and firm voice from behind him. He struggled to turn himself around. "I expected a little more."

Dick sat himself up and starred, surprised, at an old, hunched, gray-haired man leaning heavily on a cane. He grinned, instantly recognizing the deep brown eyes as Bruce's and pulled out his knife to cut the bola from his ankles. He stood, still starring and not quite sure what to say.

He grinned wider when he realized how much taller he was than Bruce and wondered how old he really was. Dick never thought old age would kill the Batman; he was too damn stubborn. Before he could ask anything however, he suddenly found himself gasping for breath as two warm and surprisingly strong arms wrapped themselves around him. It took a while for Dick to comprehend what was happening, but once the initial shock had passed, the young hero returned the gesture with vigor. This finally broke him. All the guilt, shame and emotional gut-punches flooded from Dick in this moment of unrelenting compassion. He tried to keep the tears back, but a few fell free, sinking themselves into the old man's expensive robe.

Bruce broke the hug and held Dick's arms, looking him up and down with a small smile. "You've had quite a trip." Dick let out a small chuckle and forced himself from crying any more. "C'mon, it's time for you to go home."

* * *

Batman starred, completely disheartened, out into space. They had lost Nightwing. Zatana was in the infirmary being treated for her burns and Zatara had expelled his energy dozens of times by now searching desperately and in vain for any marker indicating Nightwing's presence. _I failed him, _Batman blamed himself angrily. They couldn't even rely on J'onn as his trance had somehow grown deeper and he was moved into the infirmary along with Zatana for constant medical observation.

Batman heard the very last man that he wanted to see right now coming and he used every bit of restraint he still had to keep himself from finding the sharpest piece of Kryptonite and stabbing it into his neck.

"Bruce," Superman addressed the man in black gently but Batman maintained his gaze out the window into space. "I'm so sorry."

Batman knew his compassion was sincere, but the sentiment sounded so bitter and hollow after the loss of Nightwing. The loss of Dick… Batman shut his eyes tight behind his cowl and was grateful for the lead preventing the Superhero from seeing his tears.

"Leave me," Batman ordered, venomously.

Superman was smart enough to know there was nothing he could say to appease Bruce's grief and left in respectful silence.

* * *

"Where is everyone?" Dick asked running his hands along the muslin covered trophies and equipment.

Bruce continued walking ahead slowly and shrugged. "Dead or have moved on."

Dick nodded, "And me?" He kept following the old man deeper into the cave.

They came to a rock wall and stopped. Bruce turned around and looked Dick in the eyes, smiling, but he did not answer. Instead, he turned his attention to the stone wall and began tapping it with his cane. First, Dick thought it was random, then he noticed a pattern developing. With three final taps, there came a whining metallic sound and the groan of moving rock. The wall slid back, then parted down the middle, revealing a small case. Bruce nodded at the case and Dick retrieved it, surprised by its weight.

"Well go on," Bruce said, impatiently.

Dick opened the case and pulled out a heavy, dark purple device with buttons and a screen. Bruce pulled something green and glowing from his pocket and tossed it to Dick.

"Kryptonite?" Dick asked.

"It powers the device. I grabbed some when the alarm went off." They began walking back to the middle of the cave.

Dick's brow furrowed. "You were expecting me."

"No shit Sherlock," Bruce said smiling. "I've been expecting this journey of yours for some time." He paused. "Well, not this part exactly…"

"You knew Darkseid was going to send me back in time?" Dick asked.

Bruce shrugged, "I didn't know it would be because of Darksied, but I knew it would happen somehow."

"How?"

Bruce's eyebrow rose smugly, "Because it happened."

Dick shook his head, "I don't under-"

"I knew this would happen because I remember it happening. Just like I knew you would be here because-"

"Because I told you I went to the future and you helped me get back."  
"Exactly," Bruce nodded.

Dick frowned. He knew the Justice League had been involved the whole time with his movements forward in time. That part wasn't hard to figure out, especially since Dick was familiar with the sensations associated with magic. But that only raised more questions.

"Zatana has been moving me through time," Dick stated.

"Correct," Bruce said, waiting for the question.

"Then why send me here?"

"She didn't, at least, not on purpose. There was some sort of accident… I don't remember."

"Then you knew what I was going to do," Dick whispered and Bruce's face became a familiar firm mask.

"You were going to save my parents, but I stopped you." Bruce's tone was cold, but Dick could see the warmth in his eyes.

"Why?" Dick asked quietly, needing to know.

Bruce regarded him for a moment before responding, equally as quietly, "Because we're here discussing it." Bruce saw that response was insufficient as his former ward waited patiently for further explanation. He sighed. "The fact that we are here debating what could've happened, means that it never did. The fact that you were there at all, that Nightwing was in twentieth century Gotham, meant that there had to have been a Robin which meant that there had to have be a Batman which meant…"

"That your parents had to die," Dick finished. "But you could've-"

"That fact that I 'could've' is the exact reason why I couldn't," Bruce cut him off, his patience wearing thin.

Dick was silent for a moment, trying to take it all in and Bruce allowed him the time. Dick gave a small smile, "I thought you didn't believe in fate."

Bruce smiled sarcastically, "Did you come all this way just to deprive an old man of his final comfort?"

"Sorry," Dick said, his smile growing warmly.

Bruce huffed and took the device from Dick's hand. He opened the back compartment and Dick put the Kryptonite inside. The device glowed to life and vibrated in Bruce's hands. He entered information and twisted some knobs before handing it back to Dick.

"Remember where you put this so I can give it to you later," Bruce said and Dick chuckled, shaking his head at the situation. "Just press that button there and you'll be home." Dick rubbed his thumb over the button, suddenly not wanting to leave. "Oh, and Dick," Dick looked up at Bruce. Bruce swallowed and smiled warmly, "Thank you." All the ambiguity of their relationship melted away with those two words. Dick felt all the angst, grief, regret and, most of all, love pronounced in those two little words. It was enough. Enough to give meaning to the terrors of his life, enough to cloak the sorrows of the night.

Dick nodded, not trusting himself to speak and pressed the button.

* * *

"Nightwing to Justice League!" Batman's head snapped away from the window, unsure whether or not to trust the voice coming from his earpiece. His throat was dry as it called out again, "Nightwing to Batman! Robin?"

Before Batman could respond however, he heard a new voice over the communications device and smiled, greatly relieved that he hadn't just been imagining Dick's return.

"Dammit, Grayson! What the _Hell_ do you want? I'm on patrol here!" Bruce almost laughed at Damien's response but decided to enter the conversation in typical fashion.

"You better _not_ be patrolling alone, _Robin_," Batman growled menacingly. "Back to the cave, _now._"

There was a moment of silence then Damien responded, dejectedly, "Yes, father."

"Nightwing, I'm transporting you back to the Watchtower," Batman said, making his way to the embarkation room to teleport him aboard the satellite.

"Understood," Nightwing responded and within minutes, the young hero was standing in front of the Bat.

Batman sighed, unbelievably glad to see Dick alive and well. "Nice outfit."

Dick grinned, "Shut up."

* * *

**THE END**


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